#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
The idea that they were reenacting something which had been staged in the first place bothered her. If she wanted to go on, she’d need to ignore this limp chronology. She assumed he was...
So these are the hills of home. H… nearly subliminal. To see them is… double, hear bad puns delivered wi… An untoward familiarity. Rising from my sleep, the road is…
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
It’s as if we’ve just been turned… in order to learn that the beetle we’ve caught and are now devouring is our elder brother
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!
